LOGINElenaThe silence feels different this time.Not heavy. Not angry. Just… careful.Like something fragile has entered the room.“Are you two done yelling?” Lucas asks.“For now,” I say.He nods. “Good. Because Mr. Blackwood was about to tell us about his company. And I have lots of questions.”Damien smiles. “I bet you do.”And just like that, everything shifts.I stand back and watch.For the next thirty minutes, I don’t say much. I just… watch him.The way he listens to Lucas. Really listens.When Lucas starts talking about sustainable business models, Damien leans in, eyes lighting up.“That’s brilliant,” he says. “Have you thought about renewable energy integration?”Lucas freezes, then brightens. “I’ve read about it! But the costs—”“—can be offset,” Damien finishes, already pulling out his phone. “Let me show you.”They huddle together, talking about solar panels and funding like they’ve known each other forever.And something twists inside me.Because Lucas has never looked this
Elena The paternity test takes fifteen minutes.A simple cheek swab. Clinical. Efficient. Reducing five years of denial to a cotton stick and a lab report that will take seventy-two hours to process.The technician is professional, kind to the twins. "This won't hurt at all. Just open wide... perfect. All done!"Luna examines her swab curiously before it's sealed in a tube. "That's my DNA?""Part of it," the technician confirms. "The cells from your cheek contain all your genetic information.""And it'll prove we're Mr. Blackwood's children?""If you are, yes. The test is 99.9% accurate.""What if it says we're not?" Lucas asks quietly.Damien, standing in the corner of the small medical office, goes rigid."It won't," I say firmly. "Because you are.""But what if—""Lucas." I crouch down to his level. "The test will prove what I've been saying for five years. You are Damien Blackwood's children. Nothing changes that. Not a test. Not his doubts. Nothing."I don't look at Damien when
ElenaI—I didn't—" He stumbles over words like a man who's forgotten how to speak. "Five years. She said—but I thought—""You thought I was lying," I finish quietly. "You denied they existed. So yes, Damien, they're real. They've always been real. You just chose not to believe it."His eyes snap to mine. And there it is—the anger I've been expecting."You kept them from me.""You denied them!""You ran! You disappeared! You—""Mr. Blackwood." Margaret's voice cuts through. "Ms. Martinez is not on trial here. This meeting is about your children. Perhaps we should focus on them?"Damien's jaw clenches. But he nods.The door opens. Two attorneys enter—a man and woman, both radiating expensive legal education."Mr. Blackwood, we're ready to begin." The woman—Catherine Wells, I assume—stops when she sees the twins. Her eyes widen. "Oh. Oh my.""Yeah," Damien says roughly. "Oh my."We sit. Me and the twins on one side of the massive conference table. Damien and his attorneys on the other.L
Elena The morning of the meeting, I throw up twice.Once at 6 AM when I wake up. Once at 7:30 after attempting breakfast.The twins watch with concern."Mommy, are you sick?" Luna asks."Just nervous, baby.""Us too. Lucas threw up already."I look at my son, who's pale but defiant. "I'm fine now. Just needed to get it out."We're a mess. All three of us.My phone rings at 8 AM. Andre.I haven't spoken to him since the kiss. Since he walked away. Since everything imploded.I almost don't answer.But the twins are watching, and I need to be an adult about this."Hello?""Elena. I heard about the meeting today. With Damien." His voice is tense. "How are you holding up?""How did you—Sophia told you.""She's worried. So am I. Elena, do you want me there? I can be in the city in four hours. I can come to the meeting, or wait outside, or—""No. But thank you for offering.""I don't like the idea of you facing him alone.""I'm not alone. I have Margaret. And the twins. And honestly, Andre,
ElenaThat evening, we visit Grandmother Rosa.The hospital hallway feels quieter than usual. Or maybe it’s just us. The twins walk close to me, their small hands brushing against mine every few steps, like they need to make sure I’m still there.She's been moved to a regular room—progress—and is sitting up, looking much stronger. The color has returned to her cheeks. There’s light in her eyes again."Tomorrow's the big day," she says.Her voice is steady. Too steady."Tomorrow's the big day," I echo.The words feel heavier coming out of my mouth."How are my brave ones feeling?""Scared," Luna admits, climbing onto the bed. She curls her legs beneath her like she’s trying to take up less space."What if he doesn't like us?"The question hangs in the room. No one rushes to fill it."Then he's a fool and you're better off without him. But mija, I don't think that's going to happen. I think he's going to take one look at you two and fall in love."Grandmother Rosa says it like it’s fact
ElenaWednesday morning, I wake up with twenty-four hours until the meeting and a to-do list that's mostly "don't have a complete breakdown."The twins are unusually quiet at breakfast. Luna pushes her pancakes around her plate. Lucas has barely touched his orange juice."You two need to eat," I say gently."Not hungry," they mumble in unison."Nervous about tomorrow?"Luna nods. "What if he takes one look at us and says we're not his?""The paternity test will prove—""I don't mean prove-prove. I mean what if he looks at us and wishes we weren't his? Like he's disappointed."Four years old and already understanding rejection on a level no child should."Then he's a fool. But baby, I don't think that's going to happen. I think he's going to see you and realize exactly what he's been missing.""While planning a wedding to someone else," Lucas mutters."That's... complicated.""Everything with him is complicated," Luna says. She sounds so much older than four. "Mommy, can we ask you som
Elena"I can't believe this is you talking. The man who fought for me—" My voice breaks."That man was a fool. Blinded by attraction. By the illusion of connection. But I see clearly now. You're just like Jasmine. Just like every other woman who's tried to use me. Except you're more calculating. Mo
Elena I sleep for fourteen hours straight.When I wake up in Damien’s guest room, sunlight cuts through unfamiliar windows, too bright, too real. My phone is buzzing nonstop on the nightstand, but my head feels thick, foggy. It takes effort just to lift my arm.Then it comes back.Victoria.The b
Elena By midnight, Damien’s apartment looks nothing like a home. The dining table is covered in laptops, open files, scattered photos—both the real ones and the edited ones, lined up like evidence in a crime scene.Three strangers sit there, all of them too calm, too sharp, the kind of people ric
ELENADiana moves like she’s in an operating room—calm, exact, cutting clean through lies. Each slide she presents feels like another blow landing on Victoria.“Slide one,” she says. “Timeline. Elena Martinez hired three weeks ago as Senior Marketing Strategist. Days later, photos of her and CEO Da







